Psychic

what's more interesting.

psychic powers? i had a bunch of that going on this weekend. at the parties with the unfathomable tax-bracket contingent. bent down to the floor to pick up glass that shattered right AFTER i was down there. called kim's son by his name before they told me it. later talking to her said wow, thats gotta suck having to move out of your house for 6 months after you just got back there. she was like, yeah, its an interesting life, we're adjusting with D's work. paul was like oh you're filming now? and i realized he hadn't told me that so i didn't know how i knew. sunday we ran into his friend i'd met and i asked him Oh how did Monica's show go? and he was like Oh it was great and paul was like How did you know she had a show? and I was just like, oh, he mentioned it the other week... and Paul was like jesus you have a good memory.

He ran into his psychic (" ") saturday and I just made a joke like, pshh I'm more psychic than all the psychics. and he just goes for condescension- You're more psychic than all the psychics? Hehe, yeah yep. So, what's going to happen to me? And I said, sincerely thinking about it, I don't see the future, I see the present... So he makes another jokey joke- so what's happening to me now? Am I... going to a party tonight? And I said, Yes!

Hardiharhar.

But no. Maybe, for you atheists (and Christians, k :-) ) I can accept that maybe I had just heard these things, overheard, and not realized... It's totally plausible. And as for the glass breaking, maybe, I dunno, I thought I just saw glass on the ground... It doesn't matter.

But Paul is sick of people laughing at my jokes so much. And doesn't like me talking so much. When I'm alone with him, I know to talk nonsense, I know to keep my mouth shut when he says things that make my blood boil. Because, that's how you act with men, that you don't really love, that are taking you out and about. But when I'm around other people, more kindred spirits, I want to connect... I want to have fun... He brings me to these things, dresses me up in his personal richbitch haute hippie understated style (which I can appreciate but get really sick of his stupid compliments, as if I haven't fucking heard it, as if I can't see right through the fact that he wants me to look moneyed so that I don't look like a gold-digger), and wants people to like me and think he has a catch, this funny, confident, knowledgeable chick, right? But, oh, not TOO much. Not to OUTSHINE.

These fucking games.

And psychic? Maybe not. But I can see. I can see people's colors. And I can see through him.

And I'm exhausted.